Charlie's Choice
by FrodoFever
Summary: Charlie Bucket and his family's been living at Wonka's factory for years now. At 20, Charlie was happy as ever, but now Wonka is demanding that the young man has to get married. Not knowing who to choose, Charlie begins searching for his soulmate. Will he
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I thought I'd try my hand at _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ even though I haven't read the book in years and I haven't seen the newest movie in months, but I'm going to try. Don't get mad at me if I get the facts wrong, my memory's a little rusty, but I don't think I am, but whatever. Read, review, and enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that Roald Dahl does. I only own the things that come from the figments of my imagination and are clearly mine and not from the author. If I owned anything except from said above, I would be rich by now.

Chapter One 

Charlie Bucket had hardly believed it when the greatest chocolate maker of all time, Willy Wonka, had told him at the end of that fateful day that he, Charlie Bucket, would own the whole chocolate factory franchise as soon as he was old enough. And to top it off, Charlie Bucket and his family would be able to live the rest of their lives at the factory.

It was lucky enough for him that he had even found the golden ticket at all. Charlie's family had been the poorest of the poor and barely had enough money to buy supplies to survive, let alone chocolate bars. But on that cold winter day, Charlie's life changed forever when he found extra money in the street gutter, thus running excitedly to the chocolate shop and buying two Willy Wonka bars, one of them containing the last golden ticket in the world.

Now here he was, Charlie Bucket, twenty years old, and co-owner of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, standing in the middle of the huge factory, watching the activity go to and fro about their business. He loved spending whole days just watching the Oompa Loompas going about making sure everything was going smoothly.

As he stood in the middle of the big field made of candy in which Charlie saw the for the first time many years ago, Charlie saw Willy Wonka himself walking towards him, stopping every now and then to pick a blade of grass or reach up to the trees to pick a chocolate apple and eat it.

Charlie smiled broadly. Even Mr. Wonka himself couldn't resist eating his own candy. Finally Willy Wonka reached where Charlie was and held out the chocolate apple that he picked. Charlie thanked the man and took the apple, biting deep into the apple. It was chocolate with caramel in the middle.

"It's good, I like it," Charlie stated between bites.

"Good. The Oompa Loompas just thought of it today," Wonka said, pulling another one off the tree above them and bit into it, "it had taken a while to perfect."

"Why's that?" Charlie asked, finishing his apple and taking a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his mouth.

"Because the apples would get too mushy with the caramel in them and now they've finally perfected it. Great, no?" Wonka asked.

Charlie nodded. "Excellent as usual."

Wonka nodded. "I'm so glad that you're my heir, Charlie Bucket. I wonder what happened to those other four children?"

"Probably back to their usual snotty lives," Charlie said bitterly.

Though Charlie was a kind-hearted person by nature, Charlie had a hard time with people who were so geared into getting what they wanted that they would do anything. That's what he had seen in Augustus Gloop, Veruca Salt, Violet Beauregarde, and Mike Teavee and he didn't like them at all. Oh, he was sure they had learned their lessons when they came to Wonka's factory, but Charlie still remembered their subtle sides as well.

Wonka looked at Charlie curiously. "Are you alright, Charlie?"

Charlie smiled and nodded. "I'm alright. I was just thinking about those other children that came here with me."

Wonka nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, they _were_ rather fiendish, weren't they? But I'm sure they've all learned they're lessons. Maybe we should invite them all back to see how they all are."

Charlie made a disgusted look. "I don't ever want to see them again. They were a bunch of brats."

"Yes, but you're just remembering them before they're falls. I so sure that they're changed," Wonka insisted.

"Well, if you insist to see them again, then by all means invite them, I'll make sure I'll be in a different part of the factory," Charlie assured the man.

Wonka shrugged. "If you wish, Charlie. But there was something else that I wanted to talk to you about."

Charlie sighed. Though he loved Wonka as a family member, the man could get so weird and annoying at times. Maybe it was because he never really had a normal childhood, but then again, Charlie didn't really have one either, and look how he turned out—normal.

"What is it?" Charlie finally asked, wanting to get it over with.

"I've been thinking about this for a long while now, so don't get mad at me. You don't have to answer right away," Wonka said.

"And?" Charlie pressed on.

"I was wondering if we should find you a wife. I know how hard it was for me to find an heir because of all the greedy people in the world and I thought it would be easier if you had a wife and had children. Then you wouldn't have to worry about finding another child," Wonka said rather quickly.

Charlie stared at Wonka in shock. This couldn't be possible. Willy Wonka, the greatest chocolateer, wanted him to be married even though the man himself wasn't? It was ludicrous.

"But, Mr. Wonka, I don't think—" Charlie began.

"Oh, don't answer right away," Wonka interrupted. "I just thought it would be easier on your part and everything. And I can do a golden ticket type of thing like last time and we can show them through the chocolate factory and if they prove themselves to be as kind hearted as you are, then you can marry them."

Charlie shook his head. "I really don't think that's going to work. Not all things in life work that way, Willy Wonka."

Immediately Charlie felt bad as soon as he said it. Wonka was visibly upset and dejected. It was as if his whole body had deflated. Walking over to him, Charlie placed a hand on Wonka's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Charlie exclaimed, "I shouldn't have said what I did, Mr. Wonka."

"I know, you're right. I was just being stupid," Wonka said. "I was only trying to help you and I got carried away."

Charlie smiled slightly. "I'll tell you what. I'll think about it and if I come to the conclusion that there's no other way, I'll try your idea. How about that?"

The effect on Wonka was immediate. His whole face lit up and he seemed to be vibrant. Grabbing Charlie by the shoulders, Wonka hugged the boy tightly.

"I always knew you were a great boy, Charlie," Wonka exclaimed happily. "Thank you."

"Err…you're welcome," Charlie said.

Finally pulling away, Wonka grinned at Charlie. "Well, I've got to be off. There are several new chocolates and candies in-making that I need to oversee. See you later, Charlie."

"See you." Charlie watched as Wonka disappeared into the depths of the factory as he stood thoughtfully. He wondered why Wonka would think up such an odd question to ask him. And why was he so worried about whether Charlie was married or not? And even if Charlie needed an heir one day, that was years off and he could always adopt or do the same thing that Wonka did, couldn't he?

Charlie didn't know, but it was something to think about the next few days. Little did he know that it would change his life for the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** If I owned anything you recognize in this story, I would be rich right now.

Chapter Two

It had been years since that fateful visit to the famous Wonka factory and yet nineteen-year-old Veruca Salt still felt humiliated about what happened, the part where she fell down the garbage shute because she was a "bad nut". Though she had changed her ways since then, Veruca still hated how Wonka seemed to make fun of her, mock her when no one was looking.

Shaking her head, Veruca walked down the street, her thoughts still lost in the past. Smelling the sweet smell of chocolate, Veruca looked around until she saw the sign for the sweet shop. Crossing the street, she walked over and gazed into the shop window. Chocolates of every sort were displayed in the window. Not able to contain herself, Veruca felt her mouth water and began to head inside. She was going to get some chocolate whether she had resolved to or not.

Several moments later, Veruca came out holding a big bag of chocolates and sweets. Already she had unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth. Hearing the clock strike noon, Veruca started. Her parents would be wondering where she was; after all, she had said she would be home before noon.

Finally reaching home, Veruca slammed the door behind her and placed the bag of chocolates on the stand in the hallway. The servants would know it was hers and take care of it for her.

"I'm home!" Veruca called as she hurried into the dining room where the family took their meals.

"Where have you been, daughter?" Mrs. Salt asked her daughter, her reproving gaze penetrating through Veruca.

Veruca gave a smile. "I'm sorry for being late, but I was taking a walk through town and I lost track of time."

"You've been seeming to do that lately, Veruca," Mr. Salt exclaimed. "Is there anything wrong?"

"No, of course not, Father," Veruca said as she sat down in her usual spot, "is it so wrong for me to take a walk through town?"

Mr. Salt shook his head. "No, of course not. But it just seems a little strange to your character."

"We're just worried about you, Veruca," Mrs. Salt jutted in. "You're our only daughter and we have a right to be worried about you."

"Oh, honestly, I don't know what the fuss is all about. Please, can we drop it?" Veruca asked, a little too sharply.

"As you will," Mr. Salt and the silence resumed.

Veruca could feel the tension throughout the room, but tried her best to ignore it. After all, she didn't want them to know that she had been thinking about Willy Wonka. When she and her father had arrived home after that day at the factory, Mr. Salt had told his wife about what had happened and soon everyone was forbidden to speak about anything affiliated with Wonka.

"Veruca?" Mrs. Salt said after several tense moments.

"What is it, Mother?" Veruca asked through gritted through her teeth. She was still frustrated with her parents.

"While you were out, a letter came for you today, but we have not idea who it's from. The messenger said that it was for your eyes only and that you need to answer it as soon as possible," Mrs. Salt continued.

"Really? Where is the letter right now?" Veruca asked, intrigued. Who would want to write to her?

"It's beside your bed," Mrs. Salt stated.

"Well, I best go and see what it is, shouldn't I?" Veruca exclaimed, standing up.

"Surely it's not important enough to skip a meal for, is it?" Mr. Salt asked. "Why not until after you eat?"

"No, I want to know now. You've sparked my interest and I won't rest until I read it," Veruca said and she left the room.

Reaching her bedroom, Veruca found the letter and sat down on the edge of the bed. The writing looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't place the writing and there was no return address.

Opening the flap, Veruca pulled the letter out and unfolded it. Glancing down at the signature at the bottom. Seeing who it was, Veruca gasped and placed a hand to her heart. It couldn't be after all of these years…not the famous Willy Wonka?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Once again I don't own anything that Roald Dahl has created. I'm merely borrowing it for the amusement of others and myself.

Chapter Three

"Charlie?"

Mrs. Bucket's mother looked at her son with concern. He hadn't seemed to be himself lately and she was worried as any good mother should be. She hoped that it wasn't anything that Mr. Wonka had said to her son, or she would have to speak to him in private.

Mrs. Bucket almost thought that her son didn't hear her and was about to say something again when he finally turned around to look at her. His face still showed his deep thought that he had been in the past hour or so.

Charlie gave a small smile. "What is it mother? Is there anything wrong?"

Mrs. Bucket shook her head. "No, I was just wondering if there was anything wrong with _you_, my dear. You haven't been yourself the past day or so. I hope Mr. Wonka hasn't overworked you already, at your young age."

Charlie smiled and shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort. I was just thinking, mother, if I should get married."

Mrs. Bucket stared at her son in surprise. Get married? Where did such a notion get into that brain of his? She had always taught him to wait with girls until he found the absolute right one for him that made him happy, but if he found a girl already, then she would support him through and through.

"Get married? But why, son? Is there a particular girl that you're thinking about marrying?" Mrs. Bucket asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No, mother. It's just something that Mr. Wonka had said to me the other day. He said that maybe I should get married and have kids then I would have an heir for the chocolate factory instead of going out and looking for another child like he had to do."

"Oh, that is utterly ridiculous. Why should he care when you get married?" Mrs. Bucket huffed.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know, I have no idea; Willy Wonka has his own agenda and ideas."

"Surely you didn't say yes." Mrs. Bucket looked worried.

Charlie laughed and shook his head. "No, not at the moment. I said I would think about it and let him know when I made a decision."

"Do you really think that marrying is the best plan, Charlie?" Mrs. Bucket pleaded, "Maybe there can be another way—"

"I told him I would think about it and let him know, mother," Charlie interrupted firmly. "I haven't made the final decision yet. Just relax until then."

Mrs. Bucket sighed. She didn't like the idea of this, but if her son knew what he was doing knew what was best, then by all means, let him decide. It was his life, not hers.

Charlie must have sensed Mrs. Bucket's wariness because he went over and gave her a hug. Pulling away, Charlie looked down at her and gave a kind smile, the one that Mrs. Bucket always loved looking at on her son.

"I'll try and make the best decision, mother," Charlie said softly. "For all of us."

Mrs. Bucket smiled. "I know you will. Just do what you can."

Charlie said nothing, just turned around and headed out of the room. Mrs. Bucket watched him leave and then shook her head. As long as whichever decision gave him the most happiness, Mrs. Bucket was satisfied. Going back to her sewing, Mrs. Bucket's thoughts drifted away unworried. Little did she know that her life would one day soon change again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I only own the mere idea of this story and nothing more. Roald Dahl owns the characters and story of _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. Otherwise, I would have been rich by now.

Chapter Four

Mike Teavee sat on the family couch in the living room, flipping through the channels of the television. Finding nothing that interested him, Mike turned the television off and stretched out on the couch. He used to love television with his heart and soul, but now it gave him no relief, no happiness whenever he watched a show where the bad guy was obliterated by the good guy. It was such a thrill, such a _rush_, but now he became utterly bored with the whole concept. When did the change occur?

Mike sat up with a start. He knew _exactly_ when his addiction for television was kicked. It was that day when he went to spend the day at Willy Wonka's factory. That lousy good-for-nothing that teased him with that TV room where he had shrunk, and then stretched 'till he was extremely tall and thin and a bit fuzzy around the edges. Of course several weeks after, Mike had shrunk a little and became a little bit more normal, but still he was too tall and thin for his age. Heck, if you looked close enough, you could still see a bit of shimmering like a bad TV signal.

Well, he couldn't just sit here anymore. He had to face his demons on a face-to-face basis and tell that booger of a man named Wonka how much his life had been ruined by Wonka's inventions. Mike could remember on that day when he and his father came home and his mother saw how much her son had changed. She had shrieked and fainted and when she was revived she dragged him off to the doctor's.

Of course the doctor couldn't do anything and could only advise that Mike stay home for a long vacation and for everybody's sake to keep him from the television. But what Mike's parents didn't know was that Mike occasionally snuck in the living room after they were asleep at night or when they left to watch TV. But that didn't do anything for his satisfaction. And the only thing he, Mike Teavee could think of was go back to Wonka's factory and face the man who had given him a lot of grief.

"Mike, what are you doing?" Mr. Teavee asked from the kitchen table, who was reading the newspaper.

Mike shrugged. "I was just thinking, is all. I was thinking maybe we should go see Willy Wonka."

Mrs. Teavee, who was sitting in her rocking chair knitting, looked up and glared at her son. "Why would you want to do such a thing, Mike? He has changed your figure forever, I'm sure it'll give him great satisfaction to see you so disfigured."

"Yes, but it's about facing your demons, Mom," Mike said. "That's the theme of most major movies."

"Now, Mike, what did we say about television? We aren't to talk about it or ever watch it again," Mr. Teavee exclaimed sharply.

Mike shrugged. "I was just making an example, Dad. I don't know any other examples that I could give."

"Maybe we should start going to the library every week. It would do you a whole lot of good, son," Mrs. Teavee put in.

Mike rolled his eyes. "We already go every other week, why should we increase the number? I'm doing well enough on that, don't you think?"

"You're mother's right, maybe we _should_ go every week. It'll be better than you lounging around the house trying to resist the temptations of the television that's in front of you," Mr. Teavee said.

"Ah, geez, dad, do we have to?" Mike complained.

"Yes, young man, you are and don't give me any grief upon it. And that's final," Mr. Teavee shouted.

Mike fell into silence. Seventeen years old and his parents still controlled his life. Well, he supposed he could survive until his eighteenth birthday and then he could live his own American dream. Mike smiled. Now that was something to look foreword to. But first, he has some things to do. Standing up, Mike stretched, looking at his parents.

"I think I might head up to my room and turn in early," Mike exclaimed. "I'm a little tired."

"If you wish, son, but first read another chapter in your book," Mrs. Teavee stated.

Mike smiled and nodded. "As you wish."

Saying goodnight Mike went to his room and closed the door behind him. He didn't have any plans to read as Mr. and Mrs. Teavee suggested. Sitting at his desk, Mike pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. He was going to write to Willy Wonka and no one was going to stop him.

--

**Author's Note:** Once again, I'm sorry for the lack of updates, but I had to study for an AP test and my final exams are coming up and everything's wild as all the teachers and students are running around trying to wrap things up. So I'm keeping busy. But maybe, hopefully in the near future I'll have the time to update more frequently. But thank you for your hard-earned patience and I hope nobody's too mad at me.

On another note, if there's a story that I've lovingly neglected for a while but you want to see continued, send me a message and I'll see what I can do.

Thanks again for everybody's patience and I hope you all continue to read and review, it'll make my day, and I'll try harder in the future to keep the updates coming.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that you recognize in this story; I only own the mere idea of the story. Otherwise I would be rich right now.

Chapter Five

Sitting in the barbershop chair, the famous Willy Wonka twirled around in his seat. He was thinking about his sole heir to the chocolate factory, Charlie Bucket. The young man had grown up beautifully and had come to love the factory as much as if not more than Willy Wonka himself.

Thinking about the conversation that he and Charlie had that day, Wonka smiled. He hoped that Charlie would say yes to Wonka's proposition about bringing back the old ticket holders and finding someone to marry. It would be just delightful if it could become a family business.

"How would you like your haircut today, Mr. Wonka?" the Oompa Loompa asked, breaking Wonka's thoughts.

"Oh, just the same as usual, my dear friend," Wonka exclaimed.

The Oompa Loompa smiled and nodded. "Of course. There can be no other haircut for the famous Willy Wonka."

Wonka nodded. Of course. He was _the_ Willy Wonka, the one and only. No one else could be him. Then why did he send out five golden tickets those many years ago if no one else could be him? _Because you're getting old and need someone to pass the factory on to_, a tiny voice echoed in Wonka's brain.

Wonka smiled. And he had found the perfect person, too. Charlie was everything that Wonka had ever been, except that he was more family oriented. And that had changed all the views that Wonka had ever come to believe. How could one so small change him so dramatically? Well, because Wonka was so much like a child himself, delighting in the whole chocolate-making business.

But it still irked him that he was so into families now. He never wanted a family since he left home from his father's business so many years ago. It was in despicable.

"Why do people change their views on everything simply by one small moment, my dear Oompa Loompa?" Wonka finally asked.

The Oompa Loompa just smiled and shrugged. "That's one of life's greatest mysteries, Mr. Wonka. We just won't be able to find the answer until just the right moment."

Wonka mumbled under his breath. "And when is the right moment? How do I know when I know the answer?"

"It all just depends, Mr. Wonka. For everyone, it is different. But you will find out in the end."

Wonka sighed. "But I'm too impatient to find out until the end, dear friend."

The Oompa Loompa just smiled. "Patience, Wonka, is a virtue."

Wonka said no more for the rest of the haircutting session. He very much wanted to sit and think and this was one of those few rare moments in which he could think. Finally, when the haircut was done, Willy Wonka stood, stretched, and headed out the door. He needed to mull this over some chocolate. Maybe he would get the right answer he wanted and maybe get some good chocolate out of it in the process. Kill two birds with one stone as they say.

While sitting in the invention room, Wonka heard the door open suddenly and close loudly behind the intruder. He was just about to retort an insult when he saw that it was Charlie. Smiling broadly, Wonka stood up and went over to Charlie, giving the boy a hug.

"What brings you here of all places, my dear boy?" Wonka asked delightedly.

Charlie shrugged. "Just came in to talk."

Wonka nodded eagerly. "And did you make a decision about what I have told you?"

"Yes, I have actually," Charlie answered.

"And what is your answer?" Wonka asked quickly, too impatient to have a slow conversation.

"I have decided that we should allow the other four ticket holders to come back, but I am not going to find someone to marry. At least not yet," Charlie exclaimed.

Wonka's face fell slightly. "Not marry yet? And why ever not? It would be the perfect opportunity for you, dear Charlie."

"Because I want to find the right person to marry and not to rush into it if I do not love the girl," Charlie said.

"But, Charlie, that's the whole point of the whole ticket thing is to find an heir and then to get married and have another heir," Wonka despaired.

"Then why didn't _you_ get married, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked. "If you are so concerned about an heir, why didn't _you_ get married and have an heir?"

"Because I didn't think it was a good idea until you came along," Wonka said.

"Then why not marry now?" Charlie asked innocently.

_Why not marry now_? My, the boy did bring up all the old memories and hurtful subjects that he had endured over the years, especially when he was a child. His father had wanted him to grow up, take over the practice, marry, and have children. Now Wonka was seeing the same things in him and slightly in Charlie.

Wonka shook his head. "I am too old for a wife. And we shouldn't be talking about such things about me. We are talking about you."

"But this is about you, as well, Mr. Wonka," Charlie pointed out.

Wonka backed away. "We shall not have this conversation right now. Anyways, I have some other pieces of business now that you said that you would be _delighted_ to have the other ticket holders come back again."

And with that, Wonka swept out of the Invention Room, leaving an astounded Charlie Bucket behind. Shaking his head, Charlie slowly left the room as well. Wonka was different, that's for sure. But it seemed that Wonka was being more odd than usual just now.

Charlie shook his head again. He just didn't know. Maybe he could talk it over with him later or with his family. But until then, he had millions of things to do in the factory. With that, Charlie disappeared down the long corridor, lost in thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize in this story, or I would be really rich.

Chapter Six

Life has changed since that day in Wonka's factory. But for Violet Beauregarde, it seemed to only change for the better. Since she was squeezed in the juicing room at Wonka's factory, Violet had become more flexible than what was natural for any human being.

Though she was still tinged with blue and her mother's ego had been a little deflated since that day, but Violet was still competitive and strived to be the best in everything. She still wanted to be the world's best sports competitor.

The only thing that stood in her way now was her mother. Mrs. Beauregarde had spoke violently against competition, saying it was a frightful thing and that Violet needed to tone it down and do something sensible. But Violet didn't want to be sensible. People who played in professional sports got over one million dollars. They were rich before they even began. And that's what Violet wanted.

But there was one thing that Violet shied away from and that was gum. She hated gum with a passion now and it had to do with that horrible Willy Wonka. If that man hadn't tempted her with that piece of gum, Violet would still have her life. Her mother wouldn't be the way she was now.

And she hated it. Violet hated how her mother was competition-driven anymore. Now Mrs. Beauregarde had what she called a "sensible" job and was making decent money at it.

Violet shook her head. Things could be so strange and change at an instant.

"Violet? Where are you, honey? I'm home!" Mrs. Beauregarde called out.

Violet sighed. Now her mother expected her to run down the stairs, say how much she was glad her mother was home and then have a family dinner with her and exchange what they did with their day. Violet didn't really feel like doing that, but she got off her bed in which she was doing her makeup and ran down the stairs. Might as well get it over with.

"Hello, mom. How was your day today?" Violet asked, bored senseless with the routine.

Mrs. Beauregarde smiled brilliantly, making Violet sick. "Oh, I had an absolute _fantastic_ day today, sweetums. I met a new man today and he is just so _sweet_ and I know that you will like it."

Violet froze. A new man? Her mother met a new man? Violet's father had died when she was young, only seven years old at the time. They had been a family back then and they were all happy, an American dream. She and her mother didn't have the distortion of being over competitive back then. Well, her mother did a little when she was a child, but she had apparently grown out of it. But now Violet could see that her mother always had the competition, Violet's father had only protected his only child from such a life.

"How…nice," Violet managed out. But she knew it was really nice at all.

Mrs. Beauregarde smiled broadly. "Yes, isn't it wonderful? And maybe we can be a happy family again. Back when…back when daddy was still alive."

Violet glared. "Don't talk about dad to me, mother. He's been dead for years now and there's no going back. We might as well go foreword."

Mrs. Beauregarde frowned. "And what's that attitude for, young lady? I would suggest that you drop it or you'll find yourself grounded."

Violet spun around. "You don't even care, do you, mother? I don't _want_ a new father. We were just fine without one before. Why not go on as we always did? Actually, none of this would have ever happened if we never went to Willy Wonka's factory. Why can't we go on the way it did before then?"

"Because I have realized that competition isn't the way to go now, Violet. Everything we do has consequences and I see that now. I want to have a happy life and I'm going to get it by marrying this man. And I know you'll be happy once you meet him to. And that's final," Mrs. Beauregarde said sternly.

"But mother—" Violet began.

"Don't 'but mother' me. This is the way of life now and I'm happy that Wonka's factory helped me see it," Mrs. Beauregarde exclaimed. "Now, come along, let's have some supper. And after that, we'll go out bowling or something."

Violet sighed. She could see no way around this.

Violet nodded. "As you wish, mother."

"Excellent. Let's go then," Mrs. Beauregarde grabbed Violet by the arm and dragged her to the kitchen.

As they left the hallway, Violet couldn't help but think that she needed to send a letter to Mr. Wonka saying how much she hated him for ruining her life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** If I had owned any of this, I would not be a millionaire, but a billionaire. And I would be retired before I began.

Chapter Seven

Dinner was a happy affair as usual. The whole family was gathered around the solid oak table laden down with food and desserts. Augustus Gloop looked at the piles of food with disdain. Despite the fact that food was essential to live, Augustus didn't like food as much as he used to. Over the past few years he had been on an extensive diet put upon him by his family and partly by himself.

"My dear Augustus could have died in that tube because he was so big for his age," Mrs. Gloop had exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

Augustus picked up his fork and knife and began eating his food in small bites. Shuddering, he grabbed his glass of milk and downed it in one gulp. It was pork and he hated pork with a passion. Of all foods that he hated, pork was his absolute worst.

Mr. Gloop looked down at his son. "What's the matter, son, are you choking?"

Augustus shook his head no. "No, I haven't, papa. I just don't like pork."

"Don't like pork? But this is the family heirloom. Pork is the essence of life," Mr. Gloop exclaimed.

"Mr. Gloop, do be careful. You know how he has been different ever since that trip to Wonka's factory," Mrs. Gloop reprimanded.

"A healthy boy can't go on with what he's been eating these past few years," Mr. Gloop growled. "I will not have a vegetarian for a son whose only meet includes chicken and fish."

Mrs. Gloop blustered. "You will accept Augustus' decision to become a vegetarian. And that's an end to it. Nothing you can do will make him stop liking meat again."

Eyes turned to Augustus. Augustus swallowed the piece that he had in his mouth. Why was his family making such a big fuss over him becoming a vegetarian? He had to be thinner, because it was surely healthier to be of thinner build than being fat.

"I like being a vegetarian, papa," Augustus exclaimed. "It's so much healthier. You'll die of too much fat if you stay too fat."

Mr. Gloop sighed. "I just don't understand any of you anymore. You used to love food and chocolate so much, Augustus and ever since you came back from that dratted Wonka's factory you've been the shame of the family! Maybe I should write a letter to that Wonka and say how much of a disgrace he's done to our family."

"You certainly will not do that, Mr. Gloop. You will not put a bad mark on Mr. Wonka's name," Mrs. Gloop exclaimed. "He's got a whole factory to think about now and he doesn't need your complaints."

Mr. Gloop grunted. "Ah, businessmen are used to such things. Willy Wonka is no different and will surely be used to threats."

The atmosphere at the table had suddenly filled with tension. Augustus looked around the table. His parents were throwing daggers at each other. If looks could kill, both of them would have been dead already. Augustus looked down at his younger brother, who had been silent through the whole episode. Little Sven was a mirror image of Augustus; only he wasn't as big as his older brother. In fact, Sven was a minuet little thing that nobody could believe that Sven could be so thin and still live.

Finish his meal, Augustus excused himself and began to stand. His father, who was watching the whole time, suddenly reached across the table and grabbed Augustus' arm to stop him from going.

"Please don't go yet. How about you sit with the family and share in eating a nice big piece of chocolate cake? I know how much you used to love chocolate. Give yourself a break from your diet and just have one nice slice, eh?" Mr. Gloop asked.

Temptation tickled at Augustus' insides. Secretly he still loved chocolate and snuck a bite of chocolate whenever his mother wasn't looking and when his addiction to the stuff became so unbearable. But Augustus only shook his head and pulled away from his father.

"No, I think not, father, not tonight," Augustus lied. "I am so full, I can't eat anymore."

Mrs. Gloop smiled broadly. "That's my boy! Say no to chocolate! It only hurts your health in the end."

Mr. Gloop harrumphed. "One slice isn't going to kill him."

"I've got to go up to my room now, I've got to have an early start tomorrow with school. It's two miles to school, remember? And I want to get there on time _and_ get my daily exercise," Augustus said.

Saying good night to everyone, Augustus headed up to his room. Now he could safely splurge on chocolate. Turning around, he was surprised to see Sven standing at the door. Hastily, Augustus stuffed his chocolates under the bed.

"Why don't you just tell them that you still eat chocolates?" Sven asked.

Augustus glared. "Because I only eat them once in a while in small amounts. And anyways, I don't want mother that I'm going against my diet. She's afraid I'm going to get fat again if I start eating chocolates again."

"You just might if you do. And I thought you didn't like food and chocolates as much anymore," Sven stated.

Augustus sighed in frustration. "I don't, Sven. It's just the stupid addiction. I can go for months and months without chocolate but it keeps building and building until it's intolerable and then I have to have a piece of chocolate before it overtakes my mind. It's been six months since my last piece and I wasn't so good just a couple years ago. So don't lecture me. That's father and mother to do."

"It was that Mr. Wonka's fault, isn't it? He made you get onto this diet and make you get into these wild addiction crazes and fights with our parents," Sven exclaimed.

Augustus growled. "You get out of here, Sven, before I pound you into the ground."

Sven squeaked and ran out the door, slamming the door behind him. Augustus sighed and fell back onto the bed. Yes, it was all Willy Wonka's fault, but Augustus supposed it was all for the better, him going there and making him realizing his health risks. But it still made him resentful that he no longer liked chocolate and certain foods so much because of Wonka and his chocolate factory. But if given the chance to, Augustus would go back to the factory again and eat all the chocolate he wanted all day without interruption.

Smiling happily, Augustus turned over and fell asleep, dreaming of nothing except what he would do if he had the whole of Wonka's factory to himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize in this story.

Chapter Eight

"Charlie?"

Charlie didn't take any heed. He sat on the grass by the chocolate river watching the big waterfall churn up the chocolate that flowed from it. He always loved watching that waterfall; it always made him feel a whole lot calmer whenever he did.

Whoever was saying his name had sat down beside him, but still Charlie didn't pay any attention to the person. He was too much in thought right now, especially with Willy Wonka. He hoped that Wonka wasn't still planning on having Charlie marry someone. And if Wonka was planning on Charlie marry Veruca Salt or Violet Beauregarde…well, he just won't do it, is all.

"Charlie! Are you going to pay attention to me or not. If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were trying to ignore me," the voice said again.

Finally turning toward his visitor, Charlie was surprised to see that it was Grandpa George. The old man rarely got out of people, or out of the house even. But ever since their moving into the big Wonka factory, Grandpa George, Grandma Georgina, Grandpa Joe, and Grandma Josephine had been up and about, flitting from one room of the factory to another as if they were children again.

"Hello, Grandpa George," Charlie said, smiling softly.

Grandpa George gave a wide grin. "Now that's more like it. I was nearly giving up on you, you know. I thought you were ignoring me."

Charlie just shook his head. "No, I wasn't, I was just thinking."

"And deep in that at best," Grandpa George exclaimed.

"Something like that," Charlie said.

"Now, tell me, Charlie, what bug's been getting into your pants, because you never seem to be yourself lately," said Grandpa George

Charlie sighed. "It's just that Mr. Wonka wants me to marry and have an heir for the chocolate factory. But the fact is, I don't really want to get married or have any children right now."

"Well, then don't." Grandpa George gave his grandchild a meaningful look.

"What do you mean, Grandpa George?" Charlie asked.

"What I mean is, if you don't want to get married yet and have children, then don't get married and have children yet. That is up for you to decide, Charlie and nobody else's. Not even Willy Wonka's," Grandpa Joe said.

"Yes, I know, but Mr. Wonka's done so much good for us, that I can't help but being obliged to him, you know," Charlie asserted.

"Yes, but Mr. Wonka isn't family, as much as you wish him to and how much we treat him as one," Grandpa Joe whispered. "Remember what he did when he said to leave us all behind and just go with him to this factory by yourself."

Charlie stared out across the river. Grandpa George did have a point there. All those years ago Willy Wonka had said delightedly that Charlie had won the whole chocolate factory. But when Charlie had asked if his family was going, too, Wonka had said, no they weren't and to consider it an added bonus. But in the end, Wonka allowed the whole Bucket family to come and live in the factory. Charlie just couldn't brush that off.

"Yes, but I don't want him to kick us all out, Grandpa George. Could you really go back to our old house now that we've been fed, watered and kept warm and comfortable for all these years? Could you going back to eating watered down cabbage soup every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?" Charlie asked.

"You sound just like your Grandpa Joe, you are," Grandpa George muttered.

"Great minds think alike, Grandpa George," Charlie said.

"But even great minds need some time to follow their hearts."

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, each of them watching the milky chocolate churning and swirling off into the distance, going to all the rooms in the chocolate factory.

The silence between them was soon broken when a voice cried out across the room. Standing and turning quickly around, Charlie saw that it was none other than Willy Wonka himself. Charlie wondered what could possibly be wrong this time.

Skidding to a stop, Willy Wonka was panting and waving a handful of letters around. Just watching him made Charlie feel dizzy and sick all over. But he couldn't help but feeling excited of what Wonka wanted to tell them. Perhaps he had made up a new invention that nobody in the world had ever thought of before.

"Well, what is it, man? Come on and tell us," Grandpa George exclaimed.

Catching his breath, Wonka smiled broadly at them. Charlie felt the anticipation mounting within him. What did the famous Willy Wonka want?

"I have some great news for you!" Willy Wonka declared.

"Well, what is it?" Charlie finally asked.

"I received letters from all the other golden ticket holders and just _guess_ what they have said?" Wonka shouted.

Grandpa George and Charlie looked up at Wonka expectantly, both pushing him to go on.

"Well, they have all said they are willing to have a little get together here at the factory!" Wonka said excitedly. "How wonderful is that?"

The great chocolateer was only met by shocked silence. Stunned, Charlie turned to look up at his grandfather.

"Grandpa George?"

Grandpa George only shrugged helplessly. There was no way he could help his grandson now. That was up to him now. But Charlie's eyes only filled up with tears and shaking his head, he ran towards the door, pushing past Wonka, not caring if he was rude or not.

Grandpa George glared up at Wonka. "Now you've done it, man. You know he didn't want to see the other ticket holders, you know how he felt about them. You mark my words, Wonka, if you disappoint my grandson or put more stress onto his shoulders, you'll regret it."

With that, Grandpa George pushed past him, as well, leaving a confused and bewildered Wonka behind in his wake, wondering what he had done wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** If I had owned any of this, I would be really, really rich right now.

Chapter Nine

In the homes of Veruca Salt, Violet Beauregarde, Mike Teavee, and Augustus Gloop, a certain piece of mail was pushed through each subject's mailbox in the middle of the night.

--

The next morning a servant of the Salt household found the piece of mail and picked it up. Reading the name on the front of the envelope, the servant went straight to the breakfast room where the family was residing. Walking into the room and bowing slightly to the family the servant cleared his throat to get everybody's attention.

"Mail for the young Miss Veruca Salt," the servant answered.

"Who could possibly be writing to her at this time in the morning?" Mr. Salt asked.

Veruca gave her father a face. "Very funny. As if _you_ don't get mail during breakfast time."

"Well, go on and open it, no use waiting until later," Mrs. Salt interrupted, causing both of them to stop arguing.

Veruca sighed and opened the envelope. Pulling the piece of paper out, she began reading it. Looking up in shock she looked like she was about to faint in shock.

"W—Willy Wonka…" Veruca squeaked before fainted flat onto the floor.

--

Violet was in the exercise room on the walking machine when her mother came bursting into the room, running over to where her daughter was. Violet noticed that her mother was looking excited and flabbergasted at the same time. Violet sighed and stopped the machine before getting off.

"What is it, mother?" Violet asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mrs. Beauregarde smiled nervously. "You wouldn't _believe_ who just wrote to you."

Violet raised her eyes. "Who?"

"Willy Wonka."

--

That morning Mike Teavee snuck out of his room to go watch some television, as if that was going to help him any, since whenever he watched it, he didn't feel like watching it. But he couldn't help himself, whenever he wasn't watching it he felt like he wanted to even though he knew he didn't.

Sitting on the couch, Mike was about to turn the television on when Mrs. Teavee came rushing in from the outside, apparently having gone to retrieve the newspaper and the morning mail.

"Mike, this is _unbelievable_! Willy Wonka just wrote to you! What in God's name does this man want with you?" Mrs. Teavee exclaimed.

--

Reading the mail that he got, Augustus looked up at his family. This was insane. This couldn't be real.

"Well, what is it, Augustus?" Mrs. Gloop asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It's Willy Wonka, mother, he has written to me," Augustus stated.

"Well, let's hear it then," Mr. Gloop exclaimed. "Let's see what the old fart wants."

"Do you think it is reasonable for Augustus—" Mrs. Gloop began.

"Just read it, Augustus," Sven spoke up. "Better now than later."

--

At this moment at the different parts of the world, the four ticket holders began reading their letters aloud.

_Dear Ticket holder,_

_The years have been long; we each have gone with our lives. But we all share a moment in time so long ago and we would like to share another moment for the good times' sake. So to celebrate the past and celebrate the future, let us meet on Halloween day and talk about the good times. Please meet outside the gates at 10 A.M. on October 31. There will be plenty of food and drink for you and your whole family. Hope to see you there. _

_Sincerely, _

_Willy Wonka and Charlie Bucket_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything in this story except for the mere idea of it. Thanks for your understanding.

Chapter Ten

"Well, I have done it," Willy Wonka said excitedly at the dinner table that night as everybody sat down.

"What have you done this time, dear Mr. Wonka?" Mrs. Bucket asked fondly. She loved the dear man who never had a real family before they came along and was happy that they could make him feel more attuned to the world.

"Yesterday morning I had some trusty deliverers take four letters to each of the former golden ticket holders inviting them here for a reunion on the twenty-fourth of this month," Wonka said excitedly.

"Oh, how wonderful!" exclaimed Grandma Georgina. "It would nice to see everybody again, wouldn't it, Charlie?"

Charlie looked down at his plate, his face burning. He had been avoiding Wonka ever since he had made the proposition and now that he had done it, Charlie felt a resignation rise with him, however reluctant. But he didn't want to tell everybody that he was reluctant to have the ticket holders over. Only his mother knew about his dilemma.

Mrs. Bucket glanced at her son. She knew how much this had all tormented him the past few days. Desperately she had wanted to comfort him, give him some advice. But he was twenty years old now and she had to let him go his own way.

Charlie heaved a great sigh. "Possibly. They might have changed after all, you never know."

Grandpa George clapped his grandson on the back. "That's the spirit. Always see the best in everybody, that's what I've always said."

"Oh, and what can you say for yourself, old man, when you crack at every person who you think's a snot?" Grandma Josephine retorted.

Grandpa George smiled sheepishly. "Well, we can't all be perfect, can we?"

Willy Wonka cleared his throat loudly. "What I've been meaning to ask you is what we should do when they all come 'round? I haven't the slightest idea."

"Show them around the factory, I'm sure they'd like that," Mr. Bucket put it.

"Ah, they've already been around the factory, let them have a big party in that one big room with that chocolate river of yours," Grandpa George said.

"But we must be sensitive of Augustus' feelings…" Grandpa Joe butted in.

As everybody was arguing, Charlie quietly finished his dinner and snuck away out of the room. He didn't feel like arguing at the moment. Walking down the chocolate river that was his constant companion in the big factory.

A small figure came up suddenly beside the young boy and looked up expectantly at him. Charlie looked down and smiled at the Oompa Loompa. They were quite nice, these Oompa Loompas.

"Is the Master Charlie wanting anything?" the Oompa Loompa asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No, I'm just thinking about everything that's going all, is all."

"That's what Master Charlie seems to be doing a lot of lately."

"Yes, because I have a lot on my mind. I have nowhere else to put it but through my head to get more room into it," Charlie laughed.

The Oompa Loompa nodded. "It's about Willy Wonka, isn't it?"

Charlie stopped short. How did these small beings get to be so smart about everything? He wished he knew.

As if reading his mind, the Oompa Loompa added, "We hear things while we go about our business, Charlie. We're not dumb and stupid."

"Of course not. I'll just have to mind what I say from now on, won't I?" Charlie asked jokingly.

The Oompa Loompa just shrugged. "What are you going to do when the others come?"

Charlie knew what he meant by the others. The other golden ticket holders. In fact, Charlie didn't know what to do. He couldn't be rude and go off to another part of the factory, yet he didn't want to spend a whole day in their presence.

"To be truthful, I don't know. It was Willy Wonka's idea and not mine," Charlie stated.

"You don't really want to see them, do you?" he asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No, but I guess if Mr. Wonka wants to see them again, he can do that."

"It's about what you want as well, Charlie," the Oompa Loompa said seriously.

"Look, I don't mind them coming for a day. I can suffer through it and then I won't ever have to see them again. No one ever said that it was completely impossible and intolerable," Charlie said fiercely.

"Except you," the Oompa Loompa said pointedly.

Charlie glared at the Oompa Loompa furiously, his mouth twitching furiously. The Oompa Loompa sat back, satisfied. He had gotten to the core of it all and it was a tad bit hilarious to watch Charlie shift around uncomfortably and try to find the words to retort back. He really was great fun at times.

"If you'll excuse me, Master Oompa Loompa, I've got some other things to oversee, if you don't mind," Charlie stated.

"Of course, sir," the Ooompa Loompa exclaimed, watching Charlie disappear through a door in the hallway. All he hoped was that the boy would make the right choice.

--

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been kind of busy and rejuvenating my brain and all that wonderful stuff. Hopefully I'll be able to make a comeback during the summer and continue with my stories. If you haven't noticed, I've deleted quite a few stories from my account from the lack of enthusiasm from my part and everybody else's. If you really want to see a story that I've deleted come back to life, please send me a message about which one and I'll see what I can do.

Thanks for being patient and for those who have reviewed, they really are a lifesaver.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize in this story, or I would be really rich right now.

Chapter Eleven

The cold air sliced through Brooke's body as if it had nowhere else to go, making her pull her coat tighter around her, trying to force the cold that was seeping deep into her bones. She didn't know how the English could live in such a dreary, bone-chilling place, even if she were one herself. Hurrying down the street, Brooke looked up to look where she was going.

Stepping around a fish cart, Brooke found herself standing in front of a formidable iron fence. Making sure that no one was watching her, she stepped up to the fence and rested her hand on the cold iron. She always saw this place at a distance, but never up close. People at her work whispered that it was the famous Willy Wonka chocolate factory, the most famous chocolate maker of all time.

Brooke Carpenter had lived in Manchester all her life and had moved to London to music and theatre while working at one of the candy stores near her apartment. Little did she know that she lived so near the famous chocolate man.

"Magnificent place, wouldn't you say, miss?" a man called from behind her.

Brooke smiled back at the man. "Magnificent indeed. Funny how I never see anyone come or go, though."

"Ah, Mr. Wonka's never seen coming out of those gates. Now, occasionally you can see his apprentice, the master Charlie Bucket coming or going, depending on the hour of the day. Or one of his family members," the man said, chuckling at the sight of Brooke.

"Indeed," Brooke answered and continued to stare up at the pillared buildings of the chocolate factory.

"I wouldn't waste my breath on waiting though, madam. Master Charlie rarely comes out as it is. Only on business since the owner won't come out for nothing."

Brooke turned to look at the man again. "I'm sure you're well meaning, sir, but I was just admiring the architecture and not waiting for anyone. I'm sure you understand?"

The man bowed slightly. "Of course, m'dear. Please forgive an old man. I shall be on my way."

Brooke didn't watch the man leave, but continued to stare up at the building. What would it be like to live in there and not have to worry about anything else for the rest of your days, too rich to even go out and work, everything set up. She wished that were so for her, but unfortunately, she had to make her own way in the world. She had no one else to help her.

"Quite a view from out here, isn't it? It's much nicer from the air, I think."

Brooke sighed in frustration, wondering whom else was going to bother her now? It seemed like everybody wanted to talk in London. At least those who didn't already have another destination in mind and glared at the passerby who blocked them to their destination.

"I'm very sure it is, but not many of us have the luxury of spending the money to go up in the air," Brooke growled at the man who was talking to her.

She was surprised to see that this man was really young, no more than twenty at the most. He was quite handsome actually; dark hair flopping into his dark blue eyes and freckles dusting his face. The kind of man she always envisioned for herself; or at least someone similar to that.

Brooke blushed and she quickly bowed her head. "Forgive me, sir, I've had a long day and I'm a little irritated."

"Quite understandable. I've had those days myself and they're not very fun, if I do say so myself," the man smiled.

"My name's Brooke, by the way," she said quickly, trying to establish an acquaintance. "Brooke Carpenter."

"And I'm Charlie. Charlie Bucket," Charlie introduced himself.

Brooke's eyes widened in surprise. "Not the famous apprentice Charlie Bucket that lives here with the famous Willy Wonka?"

Charlie smiled. "The one and the same."

"Oh, do forgive me, I didn't know what I was thinking. Really, I must be going on home now, I have classes in the morning," Brooke blushed and tried to push past him.

Charlie grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop in her tracks. "Really, it's alright. I was not offended. I really like you, Brooke. How about we meet tomorrow for lunch? We could meet at the Tower of London and decide where to go from there."

Brooke saw the warmth of his eyes and couldn't help feeling warmth toward him. He really was a polite, caring man. She thought all the rich and famous were rude and couldn't care less about the lesser classes.

Brooke smiled. "I would be delighted to, Mr. Bucket. Let's say at noon that we meet?"

Charlie let go of her elbow and nodded, returning her smile. "That would suit me perfectly. I'll see you then."

Brooke hurried away towards her apartment. She had snagged a man after all, which she never thought was possible, and the apprentice to Willy Wonka, of all people. Nobody at school or at her work would believe this if she told them. But it brought a smile to her face and kept her warm at the thought of it as she hurried through the cold streets of London.

--

**Author's Note:** I thought I might add an original character to spice things up a bit with the story. Don't know what I'm going to do with it at this point, but it might prove itself later in the story. Hope you all enjoy the chapter and keep writing. I'll update when I can.

Thanks to **Jemma Gaze** for the wonderful constructive criticism that you gave for the last chapter. I'll take heed of what you said, though I'm trying very hard to not make it mushy (I'm not a very mushy person, myself, heh). But thanks for the review anyway, and I hope you continue reading.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything of interest in here, except for Brooke Carpenter, but that's nothing much to cheer about, in my opinion. Point is, I don't own anything by Roald Dahl, or I would be rich.

Chapter Twelve

Willy Wonka looked up from his desk as Charlie came barging in, slamming the door behind him. Taking off his glasses, which he had acquired not too long ago for his ever-declining eyes, Wonka looked at Charlie closely. The boy seemed different all of a sudden. Had he already been like that, or had Charlie taken on new airs? Whatever it was, he was certainly different.

"Mr. Wonka, you wouldn't believe what just happened today!" Charlie exclaimed as he dived into the chair directly across from the chocolate maker, not bothering if the man even wanted to have a visitor at the moment.

Wonka smiled and put his long fingers together. "What is it, my boy? You might as well tell me, you're about fit to burst."

"Well, I was out and about the market today and as I was coming home tonight, I saw this lovely young lady about my age standing at the front gate, gazing thoughtfully up at the chocolate factory. We stood and talked together for a while and then I asked her to lunch with me tomorrow! Isn't that wonderful?" Charlie nearly shouted.

If Wonka was surprised, he didn't show any of it. But inside, Wonka was reeling. Charlie found somebody already? He had been hoping that Charlie would find an interest in one of the two female ticket holders when they came over. But apparently, Charlie had other ideas. And it was all going against what Wonka had wanted.

Stretching slowly with his arms in front of him, Wonka studied Charlie closely. His face was flushed with excitement and his eyes sparkled with happiness of one being young and everything in front of him. Charlie had nothing to lose, as it seemed.

"Are you sure about this one, Charlie?" Wonka asked. "Tomorrow's the reunion and I don't go out on a date, son."

Charlie glared. "It is _not_ a date, Mr. Wonka. We're just going as friends. And anyways, the other ticket holders aren't coming until two o'clock and I'll probably be back before then."

"It sure seems like a date to me. And anyways, how many people just randomly ask people to come join then for lunch? They might be thieves and murderers for all you know," Wonka stated.

"Oh, yeah? Then what was picking randomly five people from all around the world just to come visit your factory for a day to see who was the most worthy? Any of us could have been thieves and murderers," Charlie growled.

Wonka held his hands up in protest. "I didn't mean no harm by it, dear Charlie. I'm just looking out for your well-being."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I've got my own family to look after me. And anyways, I'm twenty now. I'm an adult and can do whatever I please," Charlie huffed.

Wonka looked crestfallen at Charlie's words. "But…I thought you were my family now. You said so yourself as well as well as the rest of your family. I felt like I've finally found myself after all these years…"

Charlie shook his head in disbelief. "You weren't what I had thought you were. I should've run away that day you came to me for your shoes to be shined. I was right about you that one day.

"But don't you see, I'm a changed man now!" Wonka cried out. "I've been different ever since you came to this chocolate factory. Both the Oompa Loompas and me. You were the right change for us."

"Maybe so, but you're not proving it to me right now. I'm going to go to bed now. I'll go to sleep and tomorrow at noon I'm going to meet Brooke at the Tower of London and have lunch with her. And perhaps if I get back on time, I'll help greet the other ticket holders with you. But don't count on it. Good night, Mr. Wonka."

Wonka watched Charlie leave his office numbly. How could he have let this conversation spiral out of control? He thought they were doing better from the last argument that they had. But since when did they start arguing? They had gotten along so well all these years. Was it because of this reunion that he had planned so carefully? He had thought of it as a good idea at the time, and even Charlie said it was a good idea. Or maybe the boy had said that to make him feel like he was doing the right thing.

Wonka stood up suddenly. He had to go talk to somebody and it couldn't wait any longer. Gathering his coat and an umbrella. Time to go or he would be awake all night thinking about it. Wonka left his office and soon he was hurrying down the streets of London.

--

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter twelve for you all. Yes, yes, it's extremely short but I didn't feel like typing a long time tonight. I promise I'll make it up in a future chapter sometime. Thanks to everybody who's reviewed that past few chapters, I really appreciated it and it's kept me going with this story. It wouldn't have made it otherwise. Happy reading to all and I'll update when I can.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** If I owned any of this except for the original characters, I would be extremely rich at the moment.

Chapter Thirteen

Entering her apartment, Brooke locked the door behind her before turning on the lights and collapsing onto her couch, exhausted. She had a long day and no doubt tomorrow was going to be even longer. Seeing her book that she was supposed to be reading for her Literature class, Brooke grabbed it and flipped to the page that she had left off on.

After several moments of intense concentration, Brooke finally threw the book aside. It was too late to be trying to decipher through nineteenth century way of speaking. Standing, she made her way through the clutter to her kitchen counter to check her messages.

"You have three new messages," the voice on the recorder chanted at her.

"That's typical, I can never have just one," Brooke muttered to herself.

"Message One," the voice continued. "Recorded at 3:45 p.m."

"Oh, just get on with it," Brooke growled as she made her way around the counter to reach the refrigerator.

"Hey, Brooke, it's me, Tara. I was just calling to see what you were doing this weekend. Obviously you're not home yet, so call me back when you get home. Catch you later."

Brooke laughed and shook her head. Her friend Tara Croft was as impatient as anyone she knew. Tara was also one for bringing out the best of the best in the weekends, making each one worthwhile, each one different from the last and each one to remember for a long time afterwards. Brooke wished she had as much energy as that girl did.

Message two was from her university, telling her that the morning's classes were cancelled due to the air conditioner being broken. That was good since Brooke needed the morning to finish her lines and get a start on her Literature homework. Literature wasn't a requirement at her college, but Brooke figured that the study of the characters would help her a lot in theatre.

"Message three, recorded at five-thirty p.m." the voice exclaimed, breaking Brooke from her thoughts.

"Hey, it's Jesse. I thought you might want to do something tomorrow since classes are cancelled. Let's say we go to the café for something to eat and chat. Then maybe we can do something afterwards. Give me a ring."

"No more messages," the recorder informed her before beeping off.

Brooke sat back on the stool that she had settled herself on and smiled. Jesse had been her best friend since they were kids and went to the same college that she did. She had a feeling that Jesse had a crush on her and that's why he came to London to be at the same college that she went to. Whatever the reason, Brooke was glad he did because it was at least one familiar face in a sea of strangers.

Finishing her leftover spaghetti that she had for dinner last night, Brooke dialed Tara's number. It was better to not let the girl suffer a moment longer.

"It's about time you called, girl, I was about to call the police on you," Tara's voice said loudly.

"Well, that's a nice way of being a good friend," Brooke said, laughing.

"Someone's got to look after you," Tara exclaimed, joining in the laughter. "So what are you doing this weekend, friend? I thought we might take a road trip."

"A road trip?" Brooke asked skeptically. Tara's road trips ended up on the beach for a week with parties that included the guys. Tara was always trying to find the right guy for the both of them.

"Yeah, it's a great plan. And you can meet that new guy from America I was telling you about. You would like him, I promise you."

"Well, I'll have to see, because I have plans for lunch tomorrow at noon and my friend Jesse wants to do something tomorrow, also," Brooke stated.

"Isn't Jesse that one guy who you said followed you here all the way from Manchester? I keep telling you he's a stalker, B, and you don't need to be around him," Tara said.

"Oh, give the guy a break, Tara, he's my friend. And anyways, you haven't even _met_ him yet," Brooke said.

"I don't need to, the way you keep talking about him. So are you going to come or not?" Brooke could feel the expectant tension on the other end.

Brooke sighed. "When are you leaving?"

"Five o'clock sharp, right after I get off work. We're meeting at my place," Tara said.

"I'll try and be there," Brooke informed her.

"Oh, come on, Brooke, it's going to be lots of fun," Tara pleaded.

"I'm telling you I may or may not be there, depending on how the rest of the day goes," Brooke said firmly, determined to get the upper hand.

"Fine, but you'll miss out on all the action if you don't go," Tara said.

"I'll take that chance," Brooke stated.

"Well, I'll talk to you later, I've got to catch up with my gossip," Tara exclaimed.

Brooke rolled her eyes. Catching up with her gossip meant going down to the downtown pub. Brooke just didn't know how her friend could do this every night and still get good grades in college plus a part time job on the side.

"See you then," Brooke said and hung up the phone.

Brooke twirled the straw in her, tiredness suddenly washing over her. She had a long day, yet she couldn't help but feel excited for tomorrow. She was going have lunch with Charlie Bucket tomorrow! That should prove exciting. She hadn't wanted to tell Tara about it yet, in case it ended up going wrong. She would just have to wait and see tomorrow.

Picking up the phone one last time, Brooke called Jesse's number. After several rings, the answering machine picked up.

"Hi, I'm not here right now. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as quick as possible," Jesse's voice said into the phone.

Brooke sighed. She wished Jesse had been home to answer the phone, she enjoyed talking to him—it made her calmer somehow.

"Hey, Jess, it's Brooke. I was calling to say that breakfast would be great tomorrow, but I have to be back before noon, I have a meeting with someone for lunch. Call me in the morning, bye," Brooke hung up the phone.

Standing and stretching, Brooke headed back to the bathroom to take a shower. An hour later she was stretched out comfortably on her bed. Brooke wanted to stay awake a while longer, thinking about her long day and her chance meeting with Charlie Bucket. As much as she tried, though, she felt herself drifting off into sleep, dreaming of chocolate bars and heroes.

--

**Author's Note:** Stupid ending to the chapter, I know but I didn't know how else to end it, so there you have it. I know it seems a little boring at the moment, but I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it. I just had to do some background stuff for Brooke so you all weren't thrown into the oblivion and wondering how the heck you got there.

Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, I really do appreciate. I know you must be tired of me saying it at the end of every chapter practically, but I really do appreciate the reviews. Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter and I hope you keep reading and I'll keep on writing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize in this story. Otherwise I would be really rich right now.

Chapter Fourteen

October 31 dawned bright and clear, the air cool enough to wear a jacket but warm enough to be able to stay outside for long periods of time. A small crowd had gathered outside the gates of the famous chocolate factory, awaiting 10 a.m. Rumors traveled fast, but none fast as the ones about Willy Wonka and Charlie Bucket, so naturally they all knew about the get together that Wonka was holding for the former ticket holders. Why, they wondered, was he doing one so many years afterwards, no one could fathom.

"You have no idea what this is doing to my poor nerves," Mrs. Salt wept, keeping a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Then why didn't you let father come like last time?" Veruca asked impatiently, in no mood for her mother's nerves.

"Because I had to see this man for myself and give him a what for," Mrs. Salt said firmly, regaining some of her composure.

Veruca just rolled her eyes in exasperation. Leave it to her mother to get a handle on everything. Mrs. Salt could never understand what had happened last time she was here, or how different and strange Wonka was to the rest of the world.

Glancing around, Veruca noticed that everybody else seemed a little nervous. It seemed like everybody was reluctant to be hear, as if everything was going to happen like it had the last time they were all here. The only thing different was that Charlie Bucket wasn't out among them. Of course, he got the grandest prize of all, and that was the building that they were all standing in front of at that exact moment.

"Mike, must you tear your fingernails off?" Mrs. Teavee asked nervously, shifting from one foot to the other as if she was ready to run if anything should happen.

Mike rolled his eyes. "What else am I supposed to do, mother? There's nothing to do while we wait."

"Well, find something more productive," Mrs. Teavee snapped. "We'll clearly be standing here a while. He was late last time."

Mike sighed. Already he knew it was going to be a long day and it hadn't even started yet. He just hoped that nothing would go wrong today.

Violet stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the other ticket holders, trying to see if Willy Wonka was coming out yet. She hoped he would come out quickly. She was an impatient person and didn't like to wait. No matter how many bad things happened in her life, nothing would stamp that out of her.

"Violet, please stand still. You're driving me insane," Mrs. Beauregarde said sharply. "I would hate to be on the wrong side of Mr. Wonka this time."

"I think you're the one who needs to be calm, mother," Violet retorted. "You're the one who's going all of the place."

"I don't need words like that from you, young lady," Mrs. Beauregarde said. "I would appreciate it if you obeyed."

Violet sighed and fell silent, obeying her mother. She could tell that her mother was going to be in a bad mood today and it would best not to cross sides with her. She had learned that from experience.

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Augustus?" Mrs. Gloop asked. "Something bad might happen."

"Only because last time I was too greedy for chocolate to heed Mr. Wonka's words," Augustus answered. "I'm a different person now, so nothing can go wrong today."

Suddenly the big iron gates opened, creaking loudly, made everyone fall silent instantly. A voice on an intercom beckoned the golden ticket holders foreword. As they passed through the opening, the gates clanged shut loudly behind them. After several moments of silence, nothing seemed to be happening.

"Now what do we do?" Violet asked impatiently.

"Why, you follow me into the chocolate factory," a voice said to their left. "And you'll have the most memorable and pleasant days that you'll ever have in your life."

--

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long delay, but I've been busy, I hope you forgive me. Another short chapter, but I don't know what I want to do next. I kind of due, but it's not clear in my head just yet. I hope everybody enjoyed the chapter nonetheless and I'll write once I get my ideas sorted out. Thanks for your patience and I hope you continue reading. Thanks to those who had reviewed that past few chapters and I didn't get the chance to thank.


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